


Ashes, Ashes, Dust to Dust

by Hayato (TheLennyBunny)



Category: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon gets taken out back and shot, Found Family, Multi, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, The cat and warning tags are just in case, filling canon plotholes, https://bit.ly/2ZEPSl4, link puts up with 0 shit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-07
Updated: 2020-01-14
Packaged: 2021-01-24 13:15:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21338839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLennyBunny/pseuds/Hayato
Summary: Waking, he heard nothing. Smelled, tasted, null. A void filled him as the water drained, as he surveyed the ruins he was left with, what little remained of himself. Remains there still were, though. Whispers on the wind, begging after so long- but not so long at all, was it, no century, not even half one-And Link decides to fill the void with anger.
Comments: 21
Kudos: 137





	1. Chapter 1

Waking, he heard nothing. Water drained around him, his lungs emptied what little was in them. It hurt to cough. It hurt to breath. It was a balm, as he remembered the last moments.

It was stiff, rising. He ached, in ways he shouldn’t. His body creaked, in ways it shouldn’t. He looked down at himself, clad in little but swim pants. Below his waist nothing, assuming. Above, stretching from navel to where he felt his collarbone, his cheek, a hollow eye, skin stretched taut and wrinkled, a shining pink.

He remembered his name. Her face. Their mission, the colours and forms he had learning travelling to shrines and far-off cities. Sword forms, battles, the taste of blood on his lips and the feel of aches and cuts. Mipha, talking on Ruta and the affection in her eyes. Revali, the irritation, Daruk and Urbosa, the compassion.

He couldn’t remember his parents’ faces. Who he had trained with as a knight.

The first hours awoken, relearning limbs and stretching scars, he breathed. Simmered, and  _ screamed  _ at how giving up everything had amounted to nothing.

* * *

Stepping out of what had to be the Shrine of Resurrection, he breathed in chilled air and stared out across the plateau. From here you could just barely see Death Mountain, simmering in its heat. On the cliff only a few steps away, you could see all of Hyrule stretched in front of you, Dueling Peaks and the Temple to the east while Sabito Mountain and the highlands sat to the west. Due north, right in the center, Hyrule Castle. He looked at it in the dying light of day and saw smoke curled round it, demise incarnate.

He could hear faint whispers. Chants, prayers. Promises of help, pleads for salvation. None call to him specifically, but he heard nonetheless. They echoed in familiar voices, untempered by time, only wearied. Tired. He wondered how long they had waited. Flexed a hand, made his own promise. Even if he didn’t defeat Ganon, failed once more, he would free them. One way or another.

But he’d need a lot more than ragged clothes and the… artifact that Zelda had left, if he wanted to do any of it. He could only assume she had been the one to leave it. He hoped.

Looking around he didn’t see much, none of the civilization he may have expected- but with the spectres around the Castle, with the final moments he remembered, maybe he didn’t expect much. Maybe there was nothing at all, but ruins. But down the hill, under a small outcropping, he could see a campfire. Lit, and glowing in the dying light, and next to it, a figure. They were large, Hylian or Gerudo by the shape though their beard said the former, hooded, quiet. They were… familiar.

It was quietly that he approached them. They didn’t speak but had to see him, had to notice even with how quiet he was. Close enough to where the embers danced on his toes, their head tilted upwards, just enough for him to see blue eyes and an aged face. One he knew.

“What’s a fine young man like you doing at this hour?” The farce, the spectre said. He only cocked his head. “Please, help yourself to the fire. I’ve some food if you need it, my boy.”

He couldn’t help the twitch, at that. Maybe the spectre noticed. Maybe not.  _ Just a failure-! _

“I’m an old fool that’s settled in these parts, quite a while ago now,” Disregarding complete silence and didn’t he always do that, ignore the poignance and expressions around him? “Though I can’t imagine what brings you here! Maybe for that temple ahead, hm?”

“She thought she had doomed everyone to death.” His throat was sandpaper. His voice was hoarse, iron notes. He didn’t remember the last time he’d spoken. He couldn’t dredge up memories of what he sounded like, before the Sword.

Rhoam baulked, went a little pale even as he tried to recover. “Excuse me, young man? Who might you-?” A single moment, darting forward and grabbing the hood the disgrace hid under, yanking it backward and watching the former king flinch. He didn’t care. Had long stopped, hours of cuts and arrow wounds banishing any dredges. He bared his teeth, tightened his grip,  _ furious. _

“I held that girl while she cried because the weight of the world had been placed on her, and you want to play the part of kindly guide with all the pain you wrought?” 

“I- know I hurt her, and there is nothing I can do to make up for it, my boy,” Rhoam said quietly, “I can only try to help you now, with her trapped in the Castle. She is holding Ganon off, but she cannot forever. But the fact you remember- they had said you wouldn’t-?”

“No, she can’t,” He agreed, grit, “Because she’s still a teenager, much as everyone wanted to treat her as the Goddess reborn.” 

“Then you should go help her, instead of attacking  _ me- _ ” He laughed, a harsh bark, revelled in the second flinch and fear he saw. Too much anger right now, pain, adrenaline still left from the battle unfinished however many years ago.

“Oh, I will. I’ll rescue the four trapped in their tombs, grab the Master Sword, and head off to the Castle. But first, I need to do something long overdue.” 

And Link grinned, felt his skin stretch and pull, and let the fist he’d been raising fly home in the middle of the dead King’s face.

* * *

It was oddly peaceful by the fire, for all he’d just beat the absolute shit out of his companion half an hour ago.

The king didn’t speak while Link ate, methodically demolishing the nuts and apples he’d collected. It was barely anything but it was  _ something _ , and he didn’t know when he’d find something substantial, so.

It was something.

Right now he was sketching in the dirt, planning with the shorthand he’d been taught in the Guard. He’d need to visit the four strongholds obviously, and Kakariko as well if Impa was still alive. Her and Purah could help, though he was uncertain how much. He’d likely face issues with the Zora and Gerudo and their honor systems, and he’d need to ensure he could actually enter the kingdoms…

The gap between the beginning and now also mattered. How long had it been? Would he be facing descendants of those he knew or the people themselves, wizened? Had no time passed at all? If so, he doubted the fuck would be so calm sitting here with him-

Rhoam cleared his throat. Link’s eyes darted to him, laser-focused. He wondered idly how he was able to keep such a solid form, why he bothered. There was no reason to stay, with Link intact enough to begin his mission.

“It has been two decades since the collapse of Hyrule,” The spectre said. Link sat up slightly, gestured at his notes. A silent question, because as far as he had known the king would have considered this sort of thing  _ a waste of time.  _ He got a nod in return. “The Captain of the Guard taught me those signs, just in case subterfuge was required.”

Hm. Useful, he supposed. Twenty years meant little in the way of the Zora or Rito, and the Sheikah would be little affected. Others… it’d be a tossup. But there would be many who remembered him. That could spell trouble or fortune, depending on the person.

He’d go to Kakariko first, he decided. Impa would have the most intel and be a neutral party. He stood to leave but Rhoam spoke again, raising a hand.

“Wait, Link. Before you go, there are things you will wish to investigate on the Plateau.” Link gave him a look he hoped conveyed how much he cared about this. Rhoam pointed to a tower off in the east. “Towers like that have risen across Hyrule, and the ancient shrines have reactivated. There is likely powers inside them which may help you.”

Link squinted at the tower. It mostly looked rusty and like it may collapse if he tried to climb it. He did not want to climb it. Link looked back at Rhoam.

_ Use? _

“I’m afraid I don’t know. I didn’t… study much of the ancient technology, when I was alive.” No, he’d left that to his daughter and shamed her all the while. Link didn’t comment this once though, heard the quiet shame in his voice.

Instead he set off to the tower. Perhaps it would prove useful, perhaps not. At the very least it would be good practice after two decades of sleeping.

* * *

He was  _ weak.  _

Not as weak as he would have been if he stayed in the shrine until fully-healed, no, but Link was far from his prime now, wheezing and clutching the side that  _ definitely still hurt  _ as he finally pulled himself to the top of the tower. He’d need to train. Strengthen back to what he had been, or as close he could reach. 

At the top now he turned outward, looked to the horizon, and it was… breathtaking. It was difficult finding a spot one could see most of Hyrule from unless you wanted to risk catching fire or freezing and it felt a rare opportunity as he glanced at Death Mountain and Medoh’s Peak. How long had it been since someone had seen this angle, stood upon this tower?

Eras, certainly. Genocide and exile didn’t make for reverence towards artifacts.

…What the fuck was he supposed to do up here?

Link glanced around the platform but there was nearly nothing atop, only a blocked exit and a pedestal in the center, some rock overhanging it. He approached that carefully. There were symbols carved into both, Sheikah if he was right. Touching the pedestal had no reaction, nor scratching his nails over it, or blowing, or kicking the damn thing.

For lack of a better idea, he took out the slate and whacked it on the damn thing. It lit up sea-blue, screen exploding with symbols.

Well. At least he didn’t need to go shake the old man for sending him up here. Now he just needed, to.

Link peered over the edge.

Shit. He was going to have to climb down, wasn’t he?

* * *

He made it down.

Rhoam didn’t seem surprised when Link barged up to him with raw palms and feet. Just silently nodded at something laying at the other side of the fire- a rusty shield and broadsword, and what looked to be a paraglider. 

Link would care about all that in the morning. For now, he flopped down on the grass under the outcropping, glanced at the stars, and closed his eyes.

He was exhausted. It was almost funny. Twenty years, and he was still tired. Except it had been longer, hadn’t it? Years of following around the royals and battling, fighting with the other pages, sparring and driving away the whispers of the three triangles on his hip. So, so long.

He was tired of the weight.

* * *

_ Red and black and anger pain hate broiled into tangibility into corporeality and it had flooded the city, drove the residents to the hills and rivers as what was defending them hours before began to seek their deaths; the Knight ran ran ran after the Princess because they had to fight him, he had to win, they needed to complete their mission or Hyrule would be lost and they approached the moat, crossed the heavy iron that would protect from sieges and wasn’t that a fucking giant paperweight now? There were Bokokin and Lizalfos and Stalkers swarming around, trying to stop them, trying to loot and kill and the Knight fought off any that approached but there were so many, too quickly too thickly and the Princess was desperate, dashed ahead too quick to reach the Castle- _

_ -And he saw her body jerk, saw the dark wood sticking out of her neck, saw the blue light racing towards her he was too far to intercept No No No _

Link screamed, a guttural, rough noise that tore at his throat. No weapon in his hand no enemies attacking, the Princess- Zelda wasn’t here,  _ he knew he knew he knew. _

It was difficult sitting up. Everything to him hurt in some way, ached in ways of overuse and stiffness. He ignored it in favor of dragging his hand through his hair and breathing deep as he could. It’d been a long time since there had been one that bad. The last…

_ Yellow eyes staring gleefully, a titanic face bearing down- _

Bad. Not something he willingly dredged up. And not something he would contemplate, either; he finally looked around, taking in the Plateau again. The sun was just rising on yonder and he could hear sparrows chirping, the leaves rustling. The fire had long died to ashes beside him. Rhoam was gone.

Link was alone, again.

He turned to the equipment instead of entertaining that thought. He’d been right before thinking they were a rusty Set and paraglider. He picked up the latter, letting it unfold in his hands. They’d been issued to just about anyone who went out to Hebra or the Highlands. Link wondered where the old man had managed to dig it up.

What had he said before Link left? That the shrines may help? Zelda had imagined them having old artifacts inside, or weapons, archives, all sorts of things… Anything to help the eventual champion defeat Ganon. She’d examined each so enthusiastically, cataloguing the subtle differences in design.

More than a few had been visible from the top of that tower. Maybe he’d visit them. If only to see what was inside, if there was anything better to be found than his shoddy equipment. Zelda would be delighted to hear of their insides when he saw her next.

Link made to stand and paused, listened to his stomach rumble. First, though. He needed something to  _ eat. _


	2. Chapter 2

There were ruins at the steppes of the plateau.

That in itself wasn’t quite enough to bother Link, not exactly. He had seen ruins before, explored them with Zelda and researched them and  _ fought  _ in them, in his dreams, in his memories. 

But he  _ remembered _ these buildings, as little was left of his mind. Guards had perched in them at all hours guarding the temple, cracking jokes and patrolling the borders of Hyrule Field for highwaymen and bokokin. He’d  _ known  _ some with how often they took these roads,  _ trained  _ with some from the few instances of smiles and in-jokes. 

And now everything was gone.

It wasn’t something he dwelled on past the first knot of walking. He’d get used to it, yet.

* * *

There were tents scattered around on the way to Kakariko. Huge things, ones that could qualify as buildings in their own right. You could board a horse out at the entrance and, inside, order a hot meal and bed down for a time. An inn, really, except ready to move at a moment’s notice, no real permanence. 

He stopped by one right near the river one night, Duelling Peaks looming in the distance; it was pouring outside and he wasn’t stupid enough anymore to stay out in the rough. If there was a bed available he was going to  _ enjoy it _ , no matter how it clawed at his meagre rupees.

The desk attendant had a trio of scars that stretched from chin to brow, for all the features underneath were young. Link wondered what he had faced. What they’d  _ all  _ faced. What was left of his generation?

Another thing to put out of mind. Especially with the desk already laid; beyond the Champions, beyond Zelda, he’d noticed among the people left a… suspicion. Searching glances, recognition and disbelief. Link wasn’t completely faded from people’s memories even with his new scars and scowls, and he hadn’t the information to know if that was a good thing or not. He could only hope with the Malice looming on the Horizon.

* * *

_ Red eyes gleaming, blood on his hand and sword and side, the Knight cannot lift his right arm but he still clutches the Sword in the left, he cannot see out his right eye but he holds open the left, and he tries to  _ ** _fight-_ **

_ But he’s speared, lung contracts and deflates, p a i  _ ** _n_ **

Link blinked, chest burning. The sword he’d been using for the past day was buried in a nearby tree.

_ Fuck. _

* * *

There was something gleeful to spending two hours catching frogs and lightning bugs. Link probably should have been doing something like exercises or pushing forth to Kakariko but, well. He was close, and tired, and could waste a few hours if it meant he didn’t burn out.

Catching a hot-footed frog he almost tumbled down a hill, barely catching himself. At least he didn’t crack his head open.

* * *

There was an absolute fucking  _ mess  _ of bokokin along the roads. Bokoblins, Moblins, even Hinox off on the edges and he was pretty sure there were Stalfos in every shadow possible, what in the  _ goddamn. _

This meant he was washing his clothes every other night to get the stench of blood out of them and absolutely  _ hoarding  _ wood and bone weapons in the Slate. He took the majority of the bokokin down with their own weapons and a mix of arrows and bombs, watching them fly screaming with a sort of blank glee. That was a bit messed up, wasn’t it? But well, the dumb assholes had destroyed most trade routes and a good many old towns, so.

_ Scream, you fuckers. _

It was a bit of stretch to say there was any actual trade anymore, though. Or civilization in general. Link had yet to see more than two or three people at a time outside the stable tents, and they were usually kitted more like explorers than traders. Desperate for conversation too, trying to keep him on the same path as long as possible. Or maybe they were just worried about him? He wasn’t exactly the cleanest-looking Hylian right now. 

Link was beginning to doubt that there were many Hylians left, though. The memories of bustling roads didn’t spell well for the present.

* * *

Four horses were in the small valley below. Chewing on grass, nickering at each other and relaxing. Link crouched and stared at them with single-minded intensity. In the name of Hylia he would  _ tame a horse  _ by the end of this goddamn day. There was a dappled brown one he was eyeing, just a little ways off from the others. It looked strong, but not like he’d be fighting it every moment of the ride. Perfect. 

It was, all things considered, probably reckless to just take a running start and jump onto the horse’s back. However, Link’s sense of preservation had burnt away with half his face, so he yeehawed into sore thighs and held tight until he was forcefully bucked off.

Link laid facedown on the ground and panted for ten minutes before he got up and tried again. Except he started by lobbing an apple at it first, waiting for it to start eating before he loped onto its back. And maybe that was the key because the big fellow only took a few rounds of bucking before it- he- settled down, huffing at him. Link ran a hand through his mane, smiling.

Good boy.

* * *

He rode on.

It was quiet dusk when Link began to see red talismans hanging from the cliffs. Impa had told him once they weren’t actually for protection or secrecy- gold ink on red wood didn’t exactly allow for the latter. They were actually just… general charms. Meant for a good harvest, an easy birth, a happy marriage. Whatever one may see on the path of living.

The fact they were still gave him hope.

* * *

Nothing, no one… Link raised his hand to black out the stars above him, watching his fingers lightly tremble. Mallow was snorting off by the tree, dozing to the tune of fireflies and crickets.

_ No _ , he mouthed, breathed,  _ not everyone.  _ He needed to remember that.

* * *

The moment he stepped on what could ostensibly be considered village land, a cucco attacked him, because the only emotion they experienced was hatred and thirsted for blood.

He held it at arms length, only holding off killing the damn thing through long-learned trauma. It was still screeching like a banshee though which was all well and good until he was surrounded in a millisecond, spears and arrows pointed at every vital point. Link only gave the closest figure a very, very tired Look.

“State your name and business, intruder!” Barked one of the smaller Sheikah, decked in full stealth regalia. He couldn’t parse if he knew them or not with their face half-covered, but he was  _ pretty  _ sure they were masculine. “This village does not allow for-”

There, the moment of realisation, eyes widening, spear drooping. Link turned the Look on them and gave a smile to accompany it.

“Oh,  _ Hylia. _ ”

_ Link,  _ He corrected cheerfully.  _ Hello. _

Someone dropped to the ground like a rock. Just as well.

* * *

Impa was, he mused, much the same. She was taller oh yes, and her hair was much longer and her muscles more defined. But she still much looked like the girl that Zelda had spent hours with bent over old texts and debating ancient tech.

The giant stomach was definitely new, though. He wondered how far along she was. At any rate, having a seed in the garden didn’t stop the chieftain from dropping everything in her hands to grab him in a bone-crushing hug. It actually hurt. Link loved it.

“ _ You’re alive, _ ” She whispered into the crook of his shoulder, “ _ Alive,  _ it had seemed so close, like we had come just too late- but thank the goddesses,  _ fuck _ , you absolute moron-” Impa broke off abruptly and pulled back, hands braced on his shoulders. He had to crane his neck to peer at her in silent question. “You shouldn’t be out of the shrine yet. At the rate described in texts, it should have taken  _ at least  _ a half-century-”

And then, Link thought, she finally noticed the ruin left of him. He graciously let her trace the part of the scar that peeked up from his collar, jerking back when she went near his eye. He hadn’t prodded it himself and wasn’t too keen on her doing it either, much as it just felt like a marble in his goddamn face.

“You shouldn’t have emerged for another few decades,” She finally murmured, and Link gave her a look that said  _ No shit _ . Impa gave him a dirty look and toddled back to the pile of cushions serving as her chair, sitting heavily. He followed in a sprawl in front of her, stretching with a sigh. It made her look at him a bit oddly.

“You’re… different.” 

Link hummed. Was he, he wondered? What had been him twenty years ago and what had been fear burying all emotion? He remembered liking horseriding and sparring with his comrades, but he also remembered never cooking or cleaning and he’d absolutely loved both on the road. He finally gave the chieftain a measured shrug. She muttered something that vaguely sounded like  _ That hasn’t changed. _

“What do you need?” She finally asked, sitting straighter, shifting colder, and he smiled. Straight to the point as he remembered, ready to cut to the throat of the issue. Goddess, he loved her. 

Link pulled out the Slate, absently noting Impa’s shaky breath, and dug around what he’d labelled the “Random shit” section. The mess of papers he pulled out was massive, questions and notes and maps all scrambled together into a barely-decipherable mess. Impa looked at it with no undue amount of long-suffering.

_ I’ve got questions,  _ He signed cheerfully. She made one of the guards go grab an pot of tea and something stronger for later, and then spent the next fifteen minutes lambasting his handwriting. It felt nostalgic.

* * *

The Gerudo had barred any non-vai from entering the main stronghold, Hylians were almost hunted out of the Zora’s domain, the Goron had taken to travelling more than ever, and the Rito had become reclusive in their cliffside settlement. Hylians themselves were clustered in the East of the continent now, scraping in through Stables, Hateno, and Lurelin. It was, Link mused, an absolute shitshow.

The Yiga were a Huge Fucking Issue. Malice was popping up like springwater in random places, making areas like the old training camp completely off-limits. Bokokin were a Mildly Less Huge Fucking Issue, and civilization as a whole had been straining away from collapse pretty much every year since he and Zelda had gone and failed to kill Calamity Ganon.

It was, all in all, not too far from what he’d expected. Link rubbed his chin and vaguely waved his hand over the map, waggling his brows at Impa. Impa, halfway through decimating some ungodly pumpkin and ironshroom pastry, waggled her eyebrows back. 

He waggled his eyebrows more. She rolled her eyes.

“There’s much you could do Link, it depends on what you wish.” She leaned forward with a sigh, squinting. “The shrines and towers may afford you power, but no one truly knows what lies in them. Paya and Robbie may have something as well, but I’ve certainly not stayed in contact with either beyond yearly missives. And it’s debatable if more forces would help besiege the castle- which I greatly recommend  _ not  _ doing at the moment. The divine beasts being back under control would certainly be an advantage, but it depends on how they are infected; if they’re anything like the Guardians, then you must destroy them completely.”

_ Need to get Champions out first,  _ He signed, and Impa blinked and took a remorseful expression. He didn’t want misplaced sympathy.  _ Alive. Can hear them. _

Impa promptly choked on her abomipastry. Link dearly hoped her wife didn’t kill him while he thumped her on the back and whistled for a guard.

There was a very tense moment after, where Impa looked bridged between guilt, horror, and  _ hope,  _ until her expression firmed. She leaned back over the map, eyeing the marks critically.

“You’ll be most familiar with Vah Ruta and the Lanaryu, but the Rito will be the closest to neutral. The Zora…” She didn’t need to continue. It wasn’t hard for Link to figure out why Hylians were forbidden from the domain. He could remember a kind face though, holding a little guppy in his arms and listening to him squeal, and by goddess did he want to see her again. A small ray in his memories, constant even as he grew and hardened.

_ Closest,  _ he signed. Impa didn’t question the weak excuse.

* * *

There were a lot of children in Kakariko. That in itself wasn’t weird, the Sheikah were used to boom-and-lulls when it came to clan size, and well. The biggest lull in history had just gone down, after all.

What was odd was that absolutely zero of them were scared of Link. He would have expected shyness, maybe one of the more brave ones to ask some blunt question or try to mess with him, but no. The moment Impa released him from her clutches off to sleep in the inn, he was ambushed by two boys, one of which he was pretty sure had an actual,  _ docile  _ cucco in his haori which was only mildly disturbing. The non-cucco one was babbling questions like a brook,  _ what was the castle like are you really the Hero what’s wrong with your EYE do you wanna play Cado’s weird have you seen his cucco its name is Mary- _

_ Stop _ , Link signed, and mercifully, he did. He rewarded this by picking the kid up and putting him on his shoulder, Cado-cucco going on the other, and listened to both of them squeal while he ran around the village. Neither attacked him with questions again.

Then the other kids appeared and all wanted rides, too. He gently pointed out he only had two shoulders, and somehow created a Riding Schedule, because Sheikah children were nothing if not polite. 

He was happy to indulge, since he had yet to stop smiling.

* * *

_ He swung his axe, sent a Lizalfos head flying and listened to the general bark orders and there was another figure in the sand, wearing bright blue and decked in full clothes, how were they not fucking melting? There were three moblins around them though which was more important, a broken weapon in hand, he needed to  _ ** _help_ ** _ - _

Link blinked. Huh. The hell was that?

It wasn’t a nightmare at least. 

He tried to sit up but realised belatedly that he was weighed down. Looking down revealed Pikango against his thigh, Cado curled up on his chest, and Pluma with an iron grip on his left arm. A test jiggle revealed that they would, in fact, tighten their grips instead of sliding off. Adorable, but mildly irritating.

He made a high whistle, loud and shrieking, and waited. Within ten seconds Mallow was cantering up to him, the kids were flailing thinking they were in trouble or missing dinner, and Link very carefully threw Pikango at the horse. At least one of the adults that had been hovering round them screeched, but Mallow easily caught Pikango’s collar and set him down because Mallow was a wonderful stallion and Link loved him.

The other two noticed the horse and, naturally, decided to knock into him with Pikango, petting as much as they could reach. He left them to it and went off to gather supplies.

* * *

“May I examine it?”

Link tensed. He didn’t let it ruin his work, didn’t let his face pull and furrow, but Impa would notice nonetheless. He didn’t look up from the arrows he was preparing.

“Link.” She placed a hand on his arm. Not restricting. Not admonishing. Just there. He tore his eyes from the blue and white feathers to glance at her under messy fringe. She looked older than fifty. Older than the punkass kid she’d been, older than the mother she was supposed to be now. 

Link turned to her fully. 

Her fingers were light as she touched the edges. Impa didn’t press down, or pick, or anything so invasive, didn’t ask him to strip off his tunic, freshly returned. His collar was far as she went.

“Can you see out of it?”

He shook his head. Just barely.

“...Any pain?”

Only stiffness, and an ever-present ache when the weather turned sour. He’d yet to truly exert himself, though. That’d be a test of time. Impa didn’t keep at it much longer, hands dropping away from his face though not far, only to his shoulders. 

Link didn’t mind when she drew him close. It made it easier for him to tuck himself into her shoulder, after all.

* * *

Hm.

Link poked a giant petal, frowning. The bud’s petals were a deep maroon and covered in jagged rises and dents, as though something had tried to break out- or in, maybe. He… had no clue what to do. Last he visited this, it had been a giant bloom with life thriving around it. Cotera had been a near constant presence, humming songs while she played with travellers and deer. Was she even in there anymore?

Hmmmmm.

Link knocked on the petal because it was a good idea as any. There was a rumbling and a sigh, loud but soft.

“ **Traveller… It has been a long while since I have been visited, and I admit to having grown weak.** ” A hand shot out, palm imploring. “ **Please… twenty rupees would be enough, I have not grown so weak a fortune is necessary…** ”

…

Link checked the old skein that was serving as his money pouch. He winced. It was painful pulling out four blue rupees. Cotera quickly snatched them up when he held his hand out, disappearing into her bud with a rustle. There was a moment of silence, a twitch, and then the bud exploded out, light and water making a glittering spectacle as Cotera stretched and laughed. Link rocked back on his heels. He couldn’t help smiling at the simple joy on her face, large and vibrant. He wondered how long it had been, for her.

“ **Thank you kind traveller~ It’s been too long-”** And there it was. Cotera blinked, smile stretching to a grin, and she quickly snatched him up, hugging him to her neck. He cheerfully pat a cheek while she laughed and laughed.

“ **It’s been too long, Sunflower! Where have you been? And what are those new little marks of yours? Tell me everything!** ”

And he did. And Cotera was all too willing to help enhance the clothes he had and join in his bitching, because if there was one thing the Fairies were Greatly Tired of, it was  _ uppity royalty. _

* * *

He twisted this way and that. The mirror followed beat for beat.

Hm. He did look good in Sheikah stealth. He spun to the tailor and gave her a thumbs-up. Lila responded by fist-bumping the air and pulling out a good three other sets of clothes. Thank Hylia the Slate didn’t have a capacity limit.

* * *

Impa seemed worried when she sent him off. Link was bemused by it, wondered just what sort of picture he made if she was worrying about  _ him. _ He used to eat frogs just to make Zelda smile, what was the point worrying over his reckless ass? It wasn’t like they hadn’t loaded him up with three of everything they could, either.

“Don’t take too many risks,” She murmured as he saddled Mallow, “If it’s not worth it, it’s not worth it.”

_ If I need to so they are saved? _

Her expression was sort of an answer in itself. She was rubbing circles into her belly bump almost absentmindedly, a tic that had developed who-knows-when. He covered her hand, making sure she looked in his eyes. It was a long moment, until she weakly smiled. 

“Come back when you can, if only to rest.”

Link hugged her instead of saying goodbye. It, thankfully, didn’t feel final.

* * *

Blue. Blue, blue, beeping, high whine that went up and up and up and Link couldn't move he was frozen all he could feel was _pain pain the breath whooshing out of him and he could hear The Princess screaming-_

The Guardian was fully-charged. His fingers were white around the reins, Mallow was terrified between his legs, the bow on his back was nothing but weight.

It fired.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH BOY ITS ONLY CHAPTER THREE??? seemes like its been longer m Dudes

There was a ringing in his ears. It was incessant, high-pitched, digging into his brain like a well-shorn pick. Link blinked and struggled against it, trying to process everything around but it was hard, what was going on? The ringing built to a whine, higher and higher- until a boom, an explosion only feet behind, and the smell of smoke.

The Guardian. The  _ fucking _ Guardian.

He vaulted off Mallow, landed with a grunt and felt the landing echo up his legs but ignored it, zig-zagging back. The metal monstrosity kept firing, but it was slowing, taking longer and longer pauses to recharge. If it kept up, it wouldn't be able to fire at all soon. It'd be destroyed before then.

The slate was easy to manipulate, screen face-up on his hip. The rusted sword was loose in his hand, slipping in his sweaty grip, but it'd do,  _ it'd fucking do _ .

One, two, three, fire. One, two, three, four, fire. One-

Link leapt. Aimed with precision, tip pointed down, and slammed the blade through one of the many joints on the Guardian's closest leg. The sword cracked as it stabbed into the metal and dirt beneath, but that was fine. He had more than enough to finish this.

He jumped back, flinched and wheezed as a beam of light shot just past his ear. Then he took another sword out and began again.

* * *

It took Link half an hour to find Mallow and calm him down, trembling and shying away. The horse didn't rear up or resist the reins, which relieved him. He didn’t have the energy to try and find another, or to keep watch in a camp for the night. He climbed up on Mallow’s back, strapped himself in an exact way his old commander had showed him, and set the horse back on the path into Lanaryu.

Within minutes, he was slumped over and dead to the world. Mallow would alert him if they came across anything. For now, he needed to rest.

* * *

_ She couldn’t say how long it had been, but it felt like an eternity and single moment wrapped to one. Couldn’t say how many times it felt as though she had died and killed in turn, over and over and over.  _

_ Somewhere along the line, she had stopped thinking of the beast she battled as something holding thought and a mind. It seemed lesser, less than even what they had initially thought. It was a singular existence without even taunts or jeering to engage her, only pushing back again and again and again and ag a i n- _

_ She missed Link. _

“ **HALT!** ”

Link snapped up in the saddle, held one hand to the slate and the other to his bow. They’d reached the outskirts of the Zora Domain while he was out, just at the edge of one of their distinct glass bridges. A group of Zora were standing further along it, spears in hands and less-than-friendly expressions on their faces. Link cocked his head. They were surrounded by different odds and ends, tools and what might have been raw materials for building. Reinforcing the bridge? Repairing? Why?

A crack of thunder sounded overhead, and he was suddenly viscerally aware of the fact he was soaked to the bone. Huh.

“What business do you have in our kingdom, Hylian?” What must have been the commanding officer barked out. They spat the moniker like an insult, and it made Link not withdraw the hand still splayed over the slate. He was long-used to signing with one hand, after all.

_ Need to see K-I-N-G D-O-R-E.  _ He heard one of them scoff. At least they still taught Sign in the Zora guard, then.

“And why would the king need to grace you with his presence? Don’t try avoiding the question.” 

Link hummed. Well. He honestly didn’t know how to reply to that without probably pissing them, considering what he knew. He tapped his fingers and drew the silence out long enough the Zora began getting tense. Tenser. Semantics.

Finally, he took an educated guess.

_ Causes of rain, and how to stop it. _

That made a good half the crew rise up in protest, accusation, even fear a little which he could understand considering the situation, before an older member of the group, nose already notched and tail flagging, raised a hand. They all quieted in unison at that.

“Whatever may help stop this damned rain is welcomed, traveller,” They- he- said. Link smiled a bit under his hood.  _ Still the same swimmer after all these decades. _ “If you follow us, we may take you to the city. Your claims may be judged there.”

“Kapson-”

“If you guppies would like to see your home drowned for the sake of your prejudices, be my guest,” The soldier interrupted, baring fangs. The protestor cowered, Kapson stepped up next to Mallow, and it seemed the matter was settled. Link glanced down at his old friend, wondering if he could see any of his face under his hood. Kapson only barely tipped his head at Link, enough to acknowledge but just barely scraping disrespect. Maybe not.

“To allay some of my kin’s worries, I must ask you step from your horse, Ser.” Kapson paused. “I promise no harm will come to the creature, or yourself as I am here.”

Link eyed the ground next to Mallow, and the Zora clustered in front of him, and decided on a good many things quickly. First and foremost, he knew he could not trust his second home anymore, not unless he wanted a spear through his shoulder. Second, it would likely be to his own benefit to not tell who he was, not yet, maybe not until he left the kingdom for good, even. It wasn’t hard to figure out why Hylians were so unwelcome. Third:

He was going to milk being an unknown as long as he could.

Carefully, stiffly, jerkily, Link heaved himself up enough to throw both legs to one side of his mount, pausing just long enough to make it seem like bracing and cringing in one. It was awkward sliding down Mallow’s flank, and even moreso when he threw off his balance landing on the ground. When he was facing the Zora again though, adjusting his hood just so to let them glimpse his scars before it was all hidden again, their shoulders had relaxed some. The suspicion in their eyes had softened to a distrust.

Perfect.

* * *

Half the Zora left with him to continue on the well-worn road, crossing rivers and bridges in silence. Link kept a hobble to his gait, uneven and shifting every kilometre or so. It drew Kapson’s eyes to him ever-so-often, Zora walking beside him. As a guard or a watch, he couldn’t say.

On the bright side, it seemed he was doing better than he thought, considering he only truly ached after the mess with the Guardian. He was walking fine, signing fine,  _ feeling  _ fine even while he put on his best damned show of a crippled miser possible. It had him in a good mood even while the soldiers round him muttered about weakling traitors in dialect.

“I admit to wondering Ser,” Kapson suddenly spoke up, killing the latest joke about getting caught by a bokoblin so stupid it tried eating its club, “You’ve a scarred countenance and speak in sign. Were you a soldier?”

Link cocked his head. No hostility, fins and tail were still. Not asking to probe then, actually curious. He made a wobbling gesture with his hand, and one of the larger soldiers scoffed.

“What’s that supposed to mean? You were or you weren’t.”

_ Doesn’t feel right calling myself.  _ He looked out at the river over the railings, slowing. He could still see Zelda’s face as she cried, the blur of his parents’ as they watched the Sheikah attendants take him away. Link leaned against Mallow’s flank.  _ Wasn’t a war, wasn’t a fight. Slaughter.  _ Tapped his fingers against the slate.  _ Fuck the Guardians. _

The group didn’t reply to that, eyes shifting away or heads turned stubbornly forward, but he could see one still out of the corner of his eye, watching. Kapson was still looking, odd expression on his face. The others didn’t see as he carefully fingerspelled  _ G-U-A-R-D-I-A-N-S? _ and Link didn’t understand what the issue was until he, belatedly, remembered that the fuckers’ names or callsigns  _ definitely  _ hadn’t gotten outside the capital. 

He shrugged. Kapson glanced down to his waist, the slate, to Mallow with his intricate braids and well-fed sides, to Link with his hobble and plain clothes. What did he see?

Kapson looked back at Link’s face, covered by hood and rain, and gave a very small smile. It wasn’t exactly happy or bitter or wry.  _ Sidon will be happy. _

Twenty years it had been. Yet somehow, he was finding more and more pockets of things that had stayed unchanged.

* * *

The capital city of the Zora was still magnificent despite the obvious wear and tear, standing proud over the ever-full reservoir. Down below the surface of the lake Link could see the lights of more buildings and Zora, jetting through carved roads and going about their day. They were more distant than he could remember. The rains were doing more than slicking the paths.

The guards at the gates didn’t look reassured by Kapson’s confidence as he lead them in. They kept their eyes on Link even as they walked further in, passing the main square, and…

Well. The statue was new. 

Mipha stood in replesdent glory, turned slightly and holding her trident. Her face was caught in some peaceful, welcoming smile, which he guessed was supposed to look pretty. Mostly, he was just unsettled that a huge memorial to his friend had been erected in the kingdom’s only really open area when even the old queen only had a mural underwater.

Complete martyrdom- what had pushed them that far?

One of the soldiers behind him slammed into his shoulder, made him stumble and have to fake a quake. Kapson hissed at them, but it didn’t quell the quiet laughs or the whispers around them. Instead of speaking up, Link simply brushed off his shoulder and kept walking by Kapson. Mallow was being lead off by one of the other soldiers. At least the steed wasn’t being mistreated; it seemed they didn’t distrust that much.

“I hope you know if you’re lying, you’ll not be living comfortable for a long time, Hylian,” Kapson remarked as they climbed the last flight of stairs. Link signed something that could vaguely be interpreted as  _ understand  _ or as a rude gesture. The Zora bit back a snort. 

The royal receiving room was only a few strides from there. Dorephan sat solemn and wary already, Muzu by his side like the wrinkly leech he was. He Link remembered, if only in snapshots of irritated faces and reprimanding. He didn’t think either of them would recognise him.

“Your majesty, this is the traveller my scouting group met, as relayed.” Kapson paused in his bow, tail twitching. The soldiers were quick to leave murmuring respects, leaving only them and the royal guards. “He claims to know the cause of the flooding and how to end it.”

“And you believed him, Kapson?” Muzu shot back, “I knew your clan was soft-skinned, but not every wandering vagrant is a hero from the goddesses-”

Link whistled, high and loud. It cut off Muzu and dragged attention back to him, which was just as well. His old friend may have been a priest, but he still trained in the Zora guard with the rest of him and could and  _ would  _ take off the old scholar’s head. Link stepped forward and brought his hands out, slow and sharp with his movements.

_ I know the cause and think you do too, advisor M-U-Z-U.  _ He cocked his head, looking up from beneath his hood.  _ Ruta has shifted in the past month? _

Muzu drew up from his slouch, barb-like teeth bared in a snarl. “How dare you address me so directly, and with such base accusations-! You lowly  _ monkey _ , I could have you locked in a damned  _ cell  _ for trespassing-”

“Muzu.” 

Dorephan’s voice echoed like a horn in the room, making the Zora flinch and Link tense. He looked upon them with tired eyes, face drawn. His scales were duller than Link’s memories, he noted, as though someone had taken ash to them. The king’s advisor almost wilted with just that word and look, wringing his hands. He didn’t speak to apologise or simper, though. 

“...You claim it is Vah Ruta causing this, Hylian,” The king said, turning back to the two standing center. “What is your evidence?”

Link raised his hands, but wavered. Which answer to give? What information to impart? They knew he was right, and  _ he  _ knew he was right after the two hours they’d walked, but there was a lot that could piss them off. He was pretty sure him  _ existing  _ would piss them off. 

He let his hands drop to his cloak instead, pulling the oily fabric open. The blue of his tunic was still bright after all these years, mended and saved by Impa. And the Zora knew it on sight even after so many years, and he heard the sharp breaths just as soon as he felt the sharp points of a trident at his neck.

“You  _ dare _ ,” Muzu hissed, “ ** _dare _ ** to come back here after what you did? After you let her  ** _DIE!_ ** ” He jerked his head, the guard dug the trident points into his neck deeper and Kapson struck it with his spear, snarling himself. Link’s hands were still free. Fools, to forget who he wholly was.

_ She- _

“Played into your silly Hylian prophecies even while she attended to her duties, and then she was  ** _abandoned!_ ** ” The old Zora stepped forward a dagger in hand ignored Dorephan’s ominous rumbling- the first he’d reacted to all this- “Kapson you traitor, stand down! This wretch could do to learn about  _ loss- _ ”

Link couldn’t help the bark of laughter that scratched his throat. Muzu’s head whipped back to him as he laughed and laughed, until he was resisting bending forward with an aching stomach. There were multiple noises of disgust, fury, contempt, but Link ignored them to straighten up, snarl right back at Muzu.

_ You think I don’t know loss just because I stand here? You think I haven’t suffered? _

“You-!”

Link grasped the clasp of his cloak and tore it away. Muzu’s words died in his throat and his eyes widened. Link didn’t think he imagined the way he cringed away. His mouth stayed in a rictus grin while he drew a sword out of the slate and spun it to Muzu’s neck, a hair’s breadth away as he rattled in a barely-there voice.

“Zelda’s fighting that fucking demon in the castle, almost everyone I knew is dead, and half my body is a goddamn scar, but Mipha  ** _lives _ ** in the ruins of Ruta, you wrinkly fuck. And I’m purifying it and dragging her out of there with or without your cooperation.”

“Link.” The sound of something massive moving and suddenly a hand on his head, turning it upward. Dorephan looked at him with a fondness and shock he… honestly hadn’t expected. His voice was soft in the aftermath of their violence. “You’re alive! Mipha- they’re all alive?” He lowered to his knees, a great thump on the floor. Arms swooped Link up against a great chest, heaving with struggling breaths. “I’m- it is such. My boy, you do not know how such news brings me joy and relief.” 

Dorephan, king of the Zora and the Lakes of the North, held Link tight in his arms, cold weight and gentle strength, and  _ cried _ , great heaving sobs that shook them both. 

“ _ Alive.” _

* * *

Kapson had been right. When Sidon finally saw him, ushered off by Dorephan for rest so he could argue into the night with his advisor, the guppy screeched and launched at him at high speed. It’d been a good couple of hours and he had yet to let go, just migrating to Link’s shoulders when he got tired. Link wasn’t about to complain, especially with the rambling voice in his ear.

“Where were you Link are you okay? Are the others okay Muzu said they were killed but he also said Hylians were evil so I think he was just being a butt like usual, he’s always mean we should visit Nelly or Merle or the guy with all the swords or, or…” ad infinitum. The guppy never asked about Mipha or brought her up, and that… hurt a bit, because he had to have been trained to do that, berated for bringing her up or ignored or derailed to grief over and over. And he deserved a might better than to have to bow to the absolute dipshits around him.

Dipshits who were alternating between glaring and muttering, though none of them approached the duo. No one it seemed wanted to upset Sidon, though they’d offset the guppy enough anyways. Link could hear him quieting under the building stares though, and made an executive decision. He lead them to the shrine in the middle of the city, lit up like the others he’d seen coming here. The orange glow made the cavern look eerie.

When he set Sidon down on the dais of the shrine, the guppy looked hesitant. Link didn’t hesitate to plop down in the water in front of him, signing nonsensical things until the the Zora’s face screwed up.

“Link, I don’t think I remember those signs-” He puffed up like a pufferfish, realising. “Those aren’t real signs! _ Link!! _ ”

The blond grinned.  _ You sure? _

“Yes!! Meanie!” Sidon wavered, flagging. Link let his signs fall and reached out, cupping Sidon’s face. Golden eyes looked up at him with worry filling them. Unacceptable.

“Muzu and Papa said I need to start lessons soon to learn how to be king, since I Presented… But you’re here.” The little boy bit his lip, hard enough to draw blood elsewhere. “If you’re here, does that mean you’re here to save Mipha?”

_ ...Oh. _

He hadn’t asked because he thought she was still alive anyways.

Link drew Sidon into his arms and hugged him tight, felt tiny arms wrap around his neck in return. It was easy resting his chin on a tiny head.

“I’ll bring Mipha back, Sidon. I promise.”

At this rate, his voice was going to actually stop sounding like a croaking toad.

* * *

_ The sands were hot today as they were every day and he looked out at them in quiet, hearing the bustle of the Upper City behind him. Looking out at the endless sky, at the walls of maelstrom to the east and west, he felt unsettled. _

_ Something was coming, soon. And they would need to be prepared for it. _

Link blinked and looked down at his hands, methodically parsing electric arrows into bundles of five. He set the latest aside with the two or so others already finished. His weapons- the not rusted to shit ones- were whetted and set off in the other corner along with a spare set of armor Dorephan had managed to “find” for him but Link was pretty sure had been made for him at some point anyways.

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. Why couldn’t he just dream of something nice before battles, like riding horses or something? Wasn’t Zelda the one who was supposed to get all the cryptic bullshit?

“Link?” He glanced up to the doorway of the guest room; Kapson was standing there with a bemused expression, looking across the arsenal. “You seem prepared,” He remarked.

_ Giant death machine,  _ Link signed deadpan. It got him a laugh and the Zora priest coming into the room, settling on the bed Link had barely touched. He looked deep in thought, one hand to the scarf that marked him as one of the Faith.

“You know a good number of citizens blame the Hylians for Mipha’s- disappearance?”

Linked nodded and shrugged, turning to the next bundle. They were  _ quite goddamn obvious  _ about it. Drag the twine, guesstimate, cut and tie round the arrows. Tug, set aside, repeat. 

“I must admit to you, my friend. I had blamed them as well, at first.” That caught Link’s attention, dragging his gaze back to the other. Kapson smiled ruefully, shoulders slumping. “Our queen-to-be and three champions dead, and you and Princess Zelda gone to boot- their words made sense. But after a while…” His gaze grew distant. “I remembered Princess Mipha herself. She… was a kind soul, but she was not weak. ‘If she had fallen, it was because all six could not best the force’.” His smile, going wry. “A depressing thought, but apparently the right one.”

Link tapped an arrow in his palm, ignoring the stings of electricity. He huffed a small laugh and leaned over, nudging his friend. 

_ Not fallen. I’ll free them from Ganon. _

The Zora grinned at him with a mouth full of needle teeth, fond and bloodthirsty and tinged with a relief borne from twenty years of stress. 

The rest of Link’s work passed in companionable silence, building until he had enough for seven bundles of five. It was a collection only possible with his hoarding tendencies, a single passing Goron merchant, and a risky venture up a nearby mountain to deal with a Lynel, done by one of the commanders moons ago. Link didn’t know where the Zora themself had gone, but their efforts had been gathering dust until now.

He’d put them to good use soon enough.

* * *

“ _ What? _ ”

Link eyed Muzu and edged away from the furious Zora, glaring at his king like he’d just said they’d be abandoning the monarchy for a barter-run democracy. Dorephan continued to ignore his advisor, calmly putting on armored plating and topaz jewelry.

“I shall be going with, at least to the entrance of Vah Ruta.” The king glanced up, making Muzu clamp his mouth shut before he could begin. “I will be far faster than Link swimming, and he will need the assistance to reach the interior with the divine beast’s defenses.”

“But- why not send one of the guards sir, or even Kapson?”

Link snorted, making Muzu zero in on him with his glare. The Hylian just raised an eyebrow in response. If the codger really thought one of the guards wouldn’t do the bare minimum to see if he would drown, then he was more delusional than he thought.

_ If we fail, the royal line ends. If I fail, the Zora kingdom drowns. _

“Well put, my boy.” Dorephan clapped a giant hand on Link’s shoulder, peered at Muzu pointedly, and well, that seemed to be that. They left early in the morning as the sun began peeking over the mountain peaks, crowds of Zora watching them pass. They were murmuring quietly among themselves, worry and hope and doubt mingling together. A good many made signs of prayer as they passed. Kapson had blessed their weapons and selves both before they left.

Travelling across the lake, watching the underwater lights zip by underneath, Link breathed in and prepared himself.

This would be the first real trial. He could only hope they returned victorious.


End file.
